Die Marionettesymphonie
by Sephira jo
Summary: When Melisande first meets Ra's Al Ghul, she feels like she already knows him. Past memories and present problems collide as she finds herself lost in events she's not entirely able to understand. Rated mostly for drug use, NOT AN Originial Character fic


**Title: **Die Marionettesymphonie

**Part: ** 1/6 _Prelude_: Sunlit Gedächtnis (dolcissimo)

**Author: **Sephira jo

**Series: **Batman

**Rating: **R (for drug use, mostly and some sex in later chapters.)

**Pairing: **Ra's Al Ghul/Melisande

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Batman world or anything out of the DC universe. If I did, not only would I be rich, but I would most likely be _dead_ as most of these comics started coming out in the thirties. So, don't sue, I don't own.

**Author's Notes:** Well, I'm straying away from my normal comedic stuff for awhile, to try some more serious things that aren't some how drabbles. A nice full length story about Batman seemed good. Just to say right away, I'm pulling for various canon sources to kind of make a mesh. Canon in the comics contradicts itself all the time, and never really hits the subject of this story all that in depth really. I will be pulling not only from the comics, but from Batman Begins as well. I hope everyone enjoys this story for what it is, and doesn't judge me too harshly.

A quick note on titles too, this story is kind of being put together like a symphony. The titles are in German to add a feel to the piece and the main title translates as _The Marionette Symphony_. The title for this Prelude translates as _Sunlit Memories_. And that's it for the long winded notes. Enjoy!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight filtered through the window of the house where Melisande, all of four, sat watching her father work. Her father was a goldsmith, well respected in the Arab community and his work brought a fair price wherever he went. He even did a good job on things such as watches or other more western items. Presently he was working on some traditional jewelry.

Curious, the four year old padded up to the work bench which was also well lit in the sunlight, the gold catching the light at angles and reflecting it on the walls. "Papa, what's that?"

Her father looked up and smiled, poking the young girl on the nose, "This is for you, little one."

Melisande wrinkled her nose but didn't protest the contact, "Why are you making me jewelry, Papa?"

"Because, one day you'll be a young woman and you'll need this when you get married," Her father said simply, returning to his work.

"Papa, you don't need to work on that then," Melisande said simply, "I'm already married."

Her father chuckled, "Already married, to whom?" he asked, the laughter still on his voice.

Melisande wrinkled her nose again, and this time out of annoyance, "You don't know Papa? I'm married to a doctor. He's really nice, and he's really good at what he does. I love him a lot."

"Is that so?" Her father asked off handedly, working on the golden bracelets.

"Yep, and he loves me too! I help him with his work a lot. But then I died," her expression changed and she frowned, reaching up she took one of the bracelets in her small hands.

Her father looked up, suddenly concerned, "You died?" He asked his tone full of disbelief.

"I died," Melisande repeated, "A man my husband healed, he turned on us and he put his hands on my neck like this," Her she put down the jewelry and demonstrated, putting her own hands over her throat, "like this," she repeated. "And then I died."

She paused and sighed, "I miss my husband; I didn't want to leave him." She paused for a long moment, looking a good deal more reflective than a four year old had the right to be. "Papa, do you think I'll ever see him again? Do you think we'll be together again, and that he misses me too?"

Her father had put down everything he was working on and then gathered the little girl into his arms, "I think he must miss you every day."

"Really?" Melisande asked, looking up at her father with large, brown eyes.

"And I'm sure if you loved each other that much, then you'll be together again. And get to live a long and happy life together."

"You promise, Papa?"

"I promise," Her father said, then pecked her on the forehead, "You're a wonderful young woman, I don't see how he couldn't love you again."

Melisande smiled and jumped off of her father's lap, "Thank you, Papa!" Running off to play, the memory was soon buried, but never forgotten. She knew, with every fiber of her being that her father was right. She'd see him again, and they'd be together, just like they were before.

She believed in it like God.


End file.
